The Necropsy Project
by Spitfire47
Summary: Loss is something no one is comfortable with but when you loose your life long friend it's even more difficult. In attempts to move on, Snow makes a remarkable yet deadly discovery. Rated T for graphic violence, language and sexuality.
1. Prologue: three times the charm

**Disclaimer: I don't own Lockout or any rights to the movie, that belongs to the production teams and creator. **

* * *

2044

A cool mist smothered the grass around a gothic styled house. The roofs were pointed and the windows were assorted shapes that were shadowed by curtains. A single lampost at the end of the driveway flickered momentarily as a small figure dashed across the gravel road. The figure panted as they stopped just before a square window on the second floor. Marion Snow thought this was absolutely insane, he disliked coming here but most of the times he would force Mace to take the four subway trains to his house. However Snow's house was practically right around the corner from the subway terminal, Mace's however was about a mile away. Apparently Mace forgot to tell Snow that. The 13 -year old boy picked up a few gravel stones and chucked them at the window. Paused then repeated when no one responded.

On the second floor second door to the right, John James Mace slept. He was bundled up in his blankets and you could see strands of his wild hair sticking out of the corners of his crumbled up bed sheets. He gave a small twitch and a moan, he was having a nightmare; again. After the witness of his uncle's death, Mace was plagued by nightmares of unseen hands strangling him. His parents, both whom were very religious, took this as a sign that their son had been possessed by the devil and immediately enrolled him in a catholic school in hopes that the teachings would help ward off the 'evils' surrounding their son.

In this nightmare he was running a long hallway that seemed to go nowhere. Voices followed him as he ran until he heard a soft _plink _tapping the window. He looked out and saw the dark sky, there were no stars as there always have been in his nightmares but he never heard this noise before. _Plink, plink, plink. _He blinked a few times and suddenly fell backwards. He gave a sharp yelp that followed him into the real world. 14-year old Mace looked around to see that he was back in his room. His bed sheet was wrapped around his legs and his pillows sprawled on the ground. Mace looked around to see that he was still at home, his school books stacked on the old desk his parents had brought from their original home was off to one side and a lamp on the chair near his door. He then heard it: plink. With a groan he untangled himself from the sheet and walked to the window. Down below was Snow who threw a single large pebble that would have hit Mace's face if it weren't for the glass separating the two friends. Mace lifted the inner shell and poked his head out.

"What?" he hissed in a whisper.

"You said I could come over," Snow answered picking up more pebbles. "I'm here."

Mace groaned. "What time is it?"

Snow looked down at his watch. "Only 3 am."

"Onl-," Mace choked on the word. "What the hell is your problem?"

"My old man's at the bar and my mom's asleep," Snow said dully then asked, "You've been having nightmares again haven't you?"

Mace was glad that it was night so that Snow couldn't see how red the tips of his ears have gone. Even in pitch black, Snow could still tell when Mace wasn't doing well.

"What happened when your parents took you to the doctors?" Snow asked.

Mace leaned against the window-sill. "He suggested therapy."

"Right, right which you've taken that school."

"It's a good school," Mace mumbled. "According to Mother Superior, I'm going to learn another technique."

"To what Mace? Your nightmares seem to have gotten worse ever since you went to that dump."

"At least I'm still in a dump."

This time it was Snow's turn to blush. "My parents forced me back to school. Anyway don't change the subject, your parents said that it was to get rid of the devil right?"

Mace mumbled an inaudible 'yeah'.

"Screw that, if I were the devil I would've taken a hike a year after you were there and you were there for five years!"

Mace groaned. "Please, go home and I'll come visit you tomorrow."

"The trains are closed now, they close at 1 am."

Mace blinked. "Then what the hell have you been doing for the past two hours?"

"Trying to find Dracula's new castle."

Mace couldn't help but laugh and his friend's sentence. Snow laughed along with him. The house was originally up for demolition until Mace's parents bought it for almost a million dollars after moving from the UK.

"So what are you going to do for the next three hours? The trains don't open up until 6:15."

Snow scratched a line into the gravel with the tip of his shoe. "Um…."

Mace's eyes grew wide. "No."

"Oh come on," Snow whined. "It's freezing out here and the only house out here in this deserted wasteland is yours."

"My parents are asleep not dead, you twat!"

Snow threw a pebble that hit Mace on the cheek. "No need for insults."

"Stop throwing pebbles at me!"

"Then let me in! I don't want to hang around losers at the terminal until 6:15." Another pebble was thrown but Mace managed to dodge it. Both boys stared at each other until Mace finally gave in.

"Wait here." Snow listened as something muffled was being ripped from it's original place. He then watched as a thin white tendril was thrown down and only then did Snow realize that it was a bed sheet.

"You're kidding me," Snow called to Mace.

"I'm not letting you use the front door, it's armed and I don't know the password."

Snow sighed and then grabbed hold of the bed sheet, wrapped it around his knuckles and hoisted himself up. Mace had tied the very end to the front desk leg and to add weight, held on tight too. Snow was close to the quarter way mark when the desk gave a creak.

"What the hell was that?" Snow asked quickly stopping.

"Don't stop," Mace pleaded, "keep going."

Snow continued up until he was a near the middle when he heard something slide. Mace turned to see the desk racing towards him, he instinctively let go making the desk go faster. Realizing his mistake he froze up trying to figure out what to do.

"Mace!"

The thirteen- year old was flung out of the window and landed on his friend. Both their weights combined continued the desk forward and faster before it smashed against the window, catapulting Mace's schoolbooks and papers along with bits of desk fragments out of the window and into the darkness.

Both Mace and Snow lay sprawled on the grass. Lights suddenly flickered on and both boys looked up in time to see Mace's bedroom light being turned on.

"Run!" Snow shouted over the mother's scream. Mace didn't need any encouragement. Both scrambled to their feet and dashed off towards the terminal.

* * *

2050

"Run!"

Mace pumped his legs to go faster mentally noting to shoot Snow some day. He looked behind to see the Snappers still there along with five police officers following close behind.

"I'm kicking your ass either way," Mace promised to the 19- year old in front of him. Snow laughed and continued to run looking back once to see that Mace was completely serious. Both made a quick left turn into a dead end but the Snappers went right by them. Snow looked up to see the towering pieces of old technology tilt and groan under the weight.

Leftover Landscape was what the area was known by. Random pieces of century old technology, furniture, toys, and other everyday uses were piled and left forgotten. Leftover Landscape was a gold mine to most people trying to make a quick buck, but if you looked real hard you would be able to find something that was actually worth it. However every prize comes at a price.

Years ago when the police found out that Leftover Landscape was territory for thieves, drug addicts and low lives they created a robotic dog known as Snappers that were faster, stronger and able to carry scent imprints longer than that of a normal dog. Snappers were never designed to kill, only capture. Their metal tail could extend up to ten metres long in order to trip their prey and their eyes would change due to lighting. But the main reason they got their name was because when you were bitten by these robotic dogs, an anesthetic fluid would eject from the teeth into the body rendering the person unconscious in less than thirty seconds.

Snow had received word that a still working computer was thrown in the Landscape not too long ago and a person who was willing to pay over ten thousand dollars was willing to give it to anyone who brought it to them. It was one of the first laptops ever made by the Apple Corporation, still in good condition besides the crack on the screen. Mace was the one who found it and Snow is the one currently carrying it through the labyrinth of Leftover Landscape.

"Hurry!" Snow shouted over his shoulder.

"I'm trying!" Mace replied angrily as he forced his legs to go faster. A Snapper came out of nowhere, narrowly missing Mace's face with its claws, it landed perfectly on the ground and then locked onto Mace. It analyzed the opponents speed, calculated how long it would take for the 25-year old male to get to the chain link fence and what method of take down it should use on such male. Mace turned back to see the Snapper's menacing eyes stare directly at him and Mace picked up the pace but not by much. The Snapper's tail extended and wrapped around his ankle pulling him off balance. The wind was knocked out of Mace as soon as he connected with the ground, he groaned and tried to get away from the Snapper but it was upon him before he could blink. Anesthetic dripped from the hypodermic teeth of the robotic dog and the Snapper was about to attack when a bullet bounced off its armour.

Both robot and human looked to see Snow standing there with a gun in his hand, he shoot off another bullet that hit the Snapper above the eye. The Snapper changed targets and went after Snow. Once the dog was off his friend Snow took out a cylinder object and threw it at the Snapper. As soon as it made contact, a powerful electrical current short -circuited the dog's database and systems. Snow ran over to Mace to make sure he was okay.

"Where the hell did you get an electrical bomb?"

"I know a guy," Snow quickly replied before pulling Mace to his feet. Both ran to the chain link fence and started to climb, shouts echoed around them but the two friends continued to climb. Snow was faster strength wise and he was the first to get to the top.

"Hurry!"

Mace's legs felt like rubber, he was tired and his breaths were ragged. As he was reached for Snow's extended hand, a metal tendril wrapped around his waist and pulled him down. Snow watched as the second Snapper sunk it's teeth into Mace's arms and within seconds his friend was completely out cold. Snow looked up to see something fly his way too. He tried to move, but the objects clamped onto his ankle, knee and hip. The moment the objects attached to his leg metal cables shot from the objects and clipped to each other then locked in place. Snow tried to move but his leg was frozen in that position. Joint Locks, Snow thought to himself. The Snapper who had taken down Mace now turned to Snow ready to attack, Snow remembered the fire bomb in his bag but as he turned he immediately lost balance and fell over into the Landscape side. He groaned as the Joint Lock tightened and watched as the Snapper came at him. Snow then looked over at Mace who was now being dragged off by a couple of officers, despite the fact that Mace wasn't really a fighter, Snow knew that his ass was definitely going to be kicked.

* * *

2069

Sparks danced close to his goggles, tools laid on either side of the object he was working on and blueprints were pinned up on the wall. The tv was on the news station on low volume, he liked a bit of noise while working it reminded him of his original work station back at the building. The table where the object was sitting groaned underneath its weight but held still as Mace added the finishing touches. Just as he pulled off his goggles, Snow walked in, throwing a briefcase onto the couch before heading into the kitchen for a drink.

"Please come in," Mace said shrugging out of a protective coat. He hung it up on the stand and then walked into the kitchen to see Snow polish off his first beer before starting his second.

"That bad?" Snow handed Mace one before answering. "Asshole made a wrong turn."

Mace chuckled. "Don't forget that, that asshole is your partner."

Snow mumbled something inaudible, which Mace knew was possibly another insult to his partner. Mace opened the beer and took a drink before heading back into the living room.

"They want me to do a write up on why we lost the guy," Snow said following Mace. "I mean it wasn't my fault."

"Was there anyway of avoiding the situation of loss?" Mace asked.

"Yeah, shooting my partner in the face."

Mace couldn't help but laugh and then took the objects he was working on off the table and setting them on a sheet on the ground.

"What the fuck are those things?"

"MEGAs" his friend answered proudly.

"…what?"

"Magnetic Energized Gravitational Assistants, they allow you to walk up walls and stuff it's really cool."

Snow walked over to the blueprints that Mace had hand drawn and whistled.

"So are these our new toys?" he asked with a grin.

After graduation, both Mace and Snow had entered into the government. Snow started off as a desk jockey while Mace was forced to follow a weapons specialist for about two and a half years before both were given freedom. Snow was sent into the field while Mace was allowed to create weapons or devices of his own.

"Prototypes," Mace answered and then placed his hand on the wall. "I stapled sheets of metal on all the walls in order to test them."

"I'll test them," Snow said quickly wanting to try the device out.

Mace frowned.

"Oh come on, I promise I won't throw them out the window."

"That's what you said about APOS." Mace and another weapons specialist had created a facial scanner that allowed field agents to scan a suspect and find out what type of weapon would be best used to take down such opponent. The only thing was that every time APOS would suggest an electrical bomb.

Snow picked up the boots and then looked at Mace. "What did APOS stand for again?"

"Analytic Persons Offence Scanner."

"Here's another name, A Piece Of Shit."

Mace held in a laugh yet gave Snow a ghost of a smile. Snow however laughed as he put the boots on. He then watched as the cables wrapped around twice and tightening to make a snug fit around Snow's foot. He walked around the room, each time the boot would give a deafening bang.

"Kinda loud don't you think?"

"I'm working on silencing the sound," Mace reassured then gestured to the metal plated wall. Snow gave a small 'alright', walked over and placed on foot on the wall. The boots sent off an electrical pulse at the wall and Snow cautiously lifted the other foot and placed it beside the other. The boot gave off the same pulse and stayed. Snow and Mace together let out a laugh of glee despite the fact that it was for entirely different reasons, nonetheless both were amazed.

"You my friend are a fucking genius," Snow said as he cautiously walked up the wall.

"Tell me something I don't know," Mace smiled and watched as Snow started to walk across the ceiling.

"We have confirmation that the space prison, MS-One, has made a successful trip with one hundred and forty one prisoners plus fifty-seven staff on board…"

"We talked about this at work for the longest time," Snow said continuing to tromp along the ceiling.

"Same downstairs," Mace replied, "we built the defense systems."

Both watched as a picture of the prison lit up the screen.

"This is the first space prison ever built and successfully launched into outer space, a station was built separate to monitor the prison from afar in case of any on board difficulties however the government assures everyone that this is a secure prison. The United States of America is the first country to sign onto sending prisoners to this prison but the creator of the prison is confident that more countries will follow suit. Currently more prisoners are being ready for transfer to MS-One and the staff say that they are ready for them."

Mace turned to Snow who was now standing in one spot, his face was a little more red than he had remembered.

"So what lock up a thousand prisoners in cages in space?"

"It's called stasis," Snow answered. "They pretty much freeze the prisoner for the duration of their sentence."

"So…the brain isn't working or anything…?"

Snow shrugged. "I'm not a neurologist so, no idea."

As Snow was ready to head towards the wall, the boots unstuck themselves causing Snow to crash painfully on the ground. Mace wasn't paying attention he was intrigued by the idea on putting prisoners in stasis, no breakouts, riots, fights – anything that goes on in prison down here on Earth.

"I bet that within a week all the staff on board will be completely bored out of their minds," Snow said getting up off the ground. He staggered slightly holding his head but as soon as the blood drained from his face Snow turned to Mace. "Eh, what do you think?"

Mace shrugged. "I don't know, I mean they have to keep the prison afloat right? That will be work, plus the thing isn't even done." He sighed. "And who knows….maybe a prisoner will get lucky."


	2. 2080: when the past comes calling

_A/N: school is starting up soon so updates will be later than others but will finish. Spitfire47_

_To 123Anonymous: no big changes, a few new characters obviously and maybe some character alteration in the beginning... can't say much because I don't want to give anything away. _

* * *

**2080**

The subway rumbled by, a large gust of wind accompanied it. People scrambled in and out of the cars and then once clear, the doors slowly came to a close before heading off. With the crowds lessened, Snow could see clearly, his eyes half drooped due to tiredness and his mind still working out a plan to slip underneath Langral's radar. He looked around to see very few people sitting on benches or leaned up against the posts. He looked up at the neon sign that read: Union. Snow silently cursed. He pushed himself up from against the wall and then headed out. As he was only centimetres from the exit his phone rang, it was Langral; again. Snow rejected the call he didn't feel like putting up with the prick's antics tonight.

Outside a sprinkle of rain splattered on Snow's coat. Fuck he thought to himself. He pulled his coat tighter around his body before walking home. Again his phone rang but Snow decided to ignore it. The sprinkle turned into a steady rain that quickly soaked through his coat right to his skin. He let out another curse before taking shelter in an empty doorway. Snow pulled off his coat and shook it a few times in attempts to shake out the water. His phone rang again; this was really starting to piss him off. Snow pulled out his phone and accepted the call without looking to see who it was.

"What?" he demanded.

"Cranky?" a smooth voice asked.

Snow sighed and leaned his head against the pillar. "I'm sorry."

"Langral told me what had happened."

"Ah babe you have to stop listening to that dick."

Emilie snorted. "He's my boss, so isn't quite as easy."

Snow mumbled something inaudible.

"I'm over to the office, something happened so I'll see you tomorrow okay?"

Snow nodded. "Yeah."

"Be careful okay?"

"I will, love you." Snow disconnected the connection and then let out a sigh. He looked out to see that the rain was pouring down even harder. "Fuck."

* * *

After listening to the dial tone for a few seconds, Emilie finally put the phone down on the receiver. She was worried about Snow, she noticed that he had been acting funny for about a year now ever since he had saved her from MS-One. Emilie knew that Snow had been in mourn over his friend Mace, it was natural for someone to do so, however this (in her opinion) had gone on long enough.

"Emilie."

The woman turned to see Langral standing in the doorway.

"Everything alright?"

Emilie faked a smile. "Yeah, great."

"I want to show you something. Follow."

The two walked down the hallway and entered the elevator. Langral pressed A2 and Emilie looked surprised.

"That's near basement level," she commented, her eyes immediately narrowed on Langral.

"It is," he replied shortly.

"Only the highest-."

"-ranking agents are suppose to be down there I know," Langral finished then added. "However I am to escort you to a meeting down on A2."

The elevator came to a halt and then doors opened. Immediately strips of plastic welcomed them, Langral pushed them out of the way and Emilie followed him. Voices and machines whirled around the two as they kept straight, Emilie sometimes jumped at a sudden noise and finally she asked, "What is this?"

Langral said firmly ignoring Emilie. "This way."

They made a left and immediately came face to face with a steel door, Langral typed in the password and the door opened on its own. He waved Emilie in and then walked in himself; a hiss escaped as the door resealed itself.

* * *

Snow quickly ran down another street before ducking underneath a doorway for shelter. It was a complete downpour, very few people were walking with umbrellas from their previous destinations and every taxi was filled with people. He cursed again like he had at every stop he made rubbing his hands together, slapping his coat, which now seemed completely ridiculous since the technique stopped working.

"Dammit!" Snow threw his coat down on the ground in frustration and then looked up. He saw a concert poster with some opera singer and underneath the name was the word lullaby. Snow inhaled a shaky breath as he remembered Mace's constant rambling back on MS-One and how the word 'lullaby' kept popping up every five words or so, that and the fucking password.

A couple of days after the MS-One incident Snow learned that it was Emilie who had actually found the suitcase. Curious, he asked her how she knew both location and password. Eventually Emilie spilled and once she was done telling him, he was quiet at first then started to question her which soon turned into almost an interrogation. Once Snow finally backed off Emilie tried to convince him to see a specialist but Snow shook his head refusing help.

Snow wondered how he could have been so clueless, how he missed something like that. Sure he wasn't a doctor nor did he understand or know how dementia works but he couldn't help but think that he could have done something. He remembered how both him and Emilie had gone ahead a few paces leaving Mace behind. That was the biggest fuck up he had ever made. He picked up his coat and shook it once more in anger before heading back home.

* * *

Inside the large metal room was a long oval table with leather seats, and every seat filled with six high ranking officials. As soon as Langral and Emilie entered all ten heads swerved to the entrance and waited patiently as the two stood at attention waiting.

"Emilie Warnock," the oldest high ranking official said, standing and holding out his weathered hand. Emilie took it. "Sir."

"I'm glad that you could make it and thank Langral that he could escort you down here." Langral nodded. The official farthest cleared her throat and said, "To business Ms. Warnock, we are here to discuss a dire matter with you."

"It's about your father," another official said. Emilie remained still, willing herself not to do anything. She hadn't seen her father in about three months now, despite his depleting health he was whisked away on important business, business of course which she was left out of.

"Run the footage."

The lights dimmed and a projection appeared the image was two people looking over notes. One was indeed Emilie's father while the other one was a face she was not familiar with.

"That," the female official pointed out, "is Darrian, a highly respected and important individual that we work with."

Darrian looked young, her hair covered most of her face and instead of a suit like most officials she was dressed in baggy pants and a hoodie. As they pair talked, all of a sudden Mr. Warnock collapsed. Darrian immediately knelt to his side before pressing something on her watch that had clearly set off the alarms as the screen started to blink. The footage ended there.

"Wait!" Emilie said, "what is…is that…is my father …dead?"

The high ranking officials looked at each other before looking back at Emilie. She couldn't believe it. A shiver ran down her spine and she felt like the breath had been knocked out of her. The room felt like it had shrunk drastically and her mind drew a blank while she tried to find something to say.

"I'm very sorry," the oldest of the ten said, "we all are."

"Oh my god," she whispered barely hearing the man's words.

* * *

Finally getting home, Snow threw his coat on the ground and immediately went into the living room to sit down. His hair was completely drenched in water, his clothes clung to his skin like an infant to its mother and his shoes squirted out small spurts of water with each step. Snow took off his shoes, socks and then sat back. Even that small task exhausted him briefly before he took off his shirt. His skin was slick with wetness and seemed to glisten in the light. Snow got up and walked over to the hallway closet and grabbed a towel. He dried his feet and body before heading into the kitchen. He looked in the fridge but nothing looked appetizing, he looking in the cupboards and saw nothing. With a sigh he bent down to the lowest drawer and took out a bottle of scotch. He then stood and grabbed a small shot. Snow poured himself a shot then pushed it back. His chest felt like it was on fire as the alcohol ran through his body, his mind already started to become clouded as a buzz started up. No wonder Mace liked this stuff. Snow poured himself another shot and walked down the hall to the spare room.

Inside was bare except for a few taped up boxes with large mailing stamps stuck to the sides. Snow walked up to the boxes and kicked one over, the box tilted on it's side and in large black lettering was the name: MACE. He sighed and wanted to open the boxes but never found the courage to. Snow recalled when the boxes were first brought to the house, he was pissed off because he thought that the government was doing this to him until he learned from Emilie that Mace had actually written a will and that all his belongings to go to Snow. That was the punchline.

Walking out of the room his cell phone rang out once more and Snow wanted to smash the device to pieces but he sighed giving in and answered.

"Marion Snow?"

Snow immediately knew that whoever was calling was definitely government. Everyone he had encountered on the outside he introduced himself as Snow, ignoring his female first name completely. However in the CIA those things didn't slide.

"You remember me don't you?"

Snow had encountered numerous CIA agents and other government staff during his years of duty before being disgracefully discharged. The voice was slightly familiar, it was deep and filled with a chilled calmness that is usually heard from in many CIA agents including Snow himself.

"Agent Pallan, CIA for 15 years division 1376-AF head of the defense department."

Snow's eyes widened as the agent recalled his serial division. The name definitely brought back memories but the division number was just to brag about Pallan's success. Pallan was known for bragging. Snow tried to recall his face; grey eyes, squarish face, a bit of a stubble and a full head of blond hair.

"I've heard that you've been doing odd jobs for us," Pallan continued, "when I learned of this I realized that I could possibly put your...skills to work for my department. Are you interested?"

"That depends," Snow answered walking into the living room.

"We are running a program and we need your help with the...volunteers."

Already Snow didn't like where this was going.

"I'm going to need a bit more than that."

"You are to report tomorrow morning 10am sharp at the Defense Department Headquarters, there will be a tag there for you already just tell them your name. From there you will be escorted to A1, basement level, and I will be awaiting your arrival."

Snow took in a breath. "What if I say no?"

"We're not asking," Pallan said cooly, "you _will _take this job Snow."

Snow narrowed his eyes, he didn't like the sound of Pallan's voice, however he never liked Pallan in general. He was ready to speak when Pallan ended the conversation and Snow ended his line too. Pallan. Marcel David Pallan. Snow had known Pallan ever since his first day of working for the CIA. Mace had even known him and even was a target for a few of Pallan's pranks. Snow and Pallan had even gotten into a full- out- no- bar -hold brawl in the coffee room one time when Snow had found out that one of Pallan's tricks had landed Mace in the hospital with three broken ribs.

Snow was ready to turn in when the phone rang out again, but it was a single beep indicating a message being downloaded into his drive. He opened it and immediately noticed the division code at the top and the department name. D.C:473G1 Department of Security. He opened the file and then read the single sentence.

_Died 5:22 pm last night working, funeral is tomorrow. Emilie._

Snow didn't need to be told who Emilie was talking about, he knew exactly. This was going to be a long night.


	3. A1

The building had exactly 34 levels with level 20 being reconstructed due to a mishap. The windows were all tinted so no one could see in and the heading on building made it quite clear as to where he was. Department of National Security. Snow really didn't want to be here. The last time he was here was four years ago when he applied for a position and ultimately turned down due to the lack of experience. He walked up to the entrance and the doors parted automatically, a low hum echoed around him in the small empty space and Snow knew that he was being scanned for weaponry or any other illegal materials. Once cleared the doors parted to the main lobby and he headed over to the front desk.

"Snow."

The woman behind the desk handed him a visitation badge and then motioned to the side of the desk.

"Someone will be up to escort you to A1."

Snow headed over and finally standing still he looked around. The whole place looked depressing in Snow's opinion. The walls were a bleak white there were benches around in a large rectangle on either side of the entrance and rules of regulation on the walls. Bored he took out his cell phone with the thought of playing a game to pass the time when he remembered that he had to go to the funeral for one o'clock. Game now funeral second, Snow thought quickly before he could actually think about it. He opened up Tetris and started to play.

The minutes passed quickly and Snow hadn't even made it off the first level. He occasionally let out a curse and in turn he would be scolded harshly by people passing by. In frustration he shut down the game and shoved his phone into his pocket. Piece of shit anyway, he thought. As he was ready to head to the bathroom Snow's escort came over.

"Holy shit," Snow chuckled with impression. There in front of him, in usual standing form was Rupert. His arms clasped behind his back, dawned in his usual cameoflouge uniform and legs shoulder width apart. He held his familiar poker face expression as he looked at Snow.

"Last time I saw you, you were whine and crying on the ground," Snow said cheerfully.

"You kicked me in the balls," Rupert replied grimly.

Snow snapped his fingers. "That's was it."

Rupert let out an involuntary sigh and motioned Snow to follow him. They walked to the elevator and Rupert slid a card in the slot and pressed A1.

"Access code," a monotonic voice echoed in the small space. Snow turned while Rupert punched in the number. The elevator gave a buzz of satisfaction and began to slide down the shaft.

"So when did you get promoted?" Snow asked.

"Three months ago," Rupert answered refusing to look at the former CIA agent.

"Good, you're moving up," Snow said while slapping Rupert in the arm. The man remained only flashing a sign of annoyance as Snow slapped him.

The elevator dinged as it reached its destination and both men got off. Immediately they were greeted by two workers dressed in bio-hazard suits.

"Um…." Snow wasn't sure to make of the situation.

"Protocol," Rupert assured. The men sprayed both with a disinfectant before granting entry to the main of A1.

The main was as bleak and boring as the lobby to the building, except a bit more horrific as well. The walls were painted a brilliant white that almost blinded Snow upon entry. Along each wall were six containers each holding a single person dressed in complete white making them seem like mental patients. However Snow knew that they were far from beyond mental. They were sick. They all had pained looks on their faces as they attempted to refuse to give into the symptoms. One slammed himself into the wall as his hands were bound behind his back, patches of red started to seep through his crisp white clothes indicating that he possibly had festers on his body. Another was curled up on the ground in a fetal position and another was shaking her head so hard that Snow feared that she might snap her own neck. Snow knew that on every single one of their transcripts had the name: F-22.

* * *

The F-22 virus came into existence during 2070, it was born from a government medical building in Russia where live viruses were kept. A madman had attempted to go into the building, however the plan failed and the bomb detonated earlier than planned. Fifty-four deaths and a brand new virus was the result of the assault. It was given the name F-22 because it took twenty-two day to be recognized as deadly and the city where it came from was Fryazino. The victim would develop painful festers and sores would either cover a portion of the body or the whole body that would be accompanied by a maddened itch. Victims would literally scratch until they bled. On the inside, the virus would attack the minor organs first then make its way up to the main centre of the body – the heart. As soon as the virus hit the heart it would be a long battle lost.

The virus spread like wildfire in the country killing off millions who were in its path. It spread all over Europe in five months and a year later made its way to Canada and States. China was the first to contain the virus and the rest of the world followed suit finally containing the virus however not actually stopping it completely. It took the States two years to finally contain the virus in New York. As soon as the virus was contained around the world then the International Health Defense gave a death toll estimation of how many died; three billion people.

* * *

Snow remembered the chaos the virus had caused both him, Mace and many others were forced to stay at the building during most of the duration of the virus impact. He remembered seeing large fluffs of dark smoke rise darkening the sky as bodies were burned and people's lives were destroyed. He remembered reading how Washington had collected those with the virus in New York and shipped them to the state. The whole building was shut down for three weeks while containment then decontamination was in process.

Rupert opened a door and Snow walked in. Inside the walls were painted a darker white and a desk was in the middle of the room with two chairs in front of it. A man was in deep conversation with another facing the wall with their back to both Rupert and Snow. Rupert cleared his throat and both men turned. Both were very clean cut except for the one on the left who had a deep scar going from the bottom of his nose to his chin.

"Marion," the scarred man said waving his hand. "Reality has taken its toll on you hasn't it?"

The other man nudged him with a Slate and the scarred man signed quickly.

"Pallan," the scarred man said holding out his hand. Snow didn't take it.

"I like what you did with your face," Snow retorted.

Pallan touched the scar on his mouth. "Knife fight two years ago, hunting down a bounty hunter. But I've been hearing that you did something…remarkable."

"Saved the president's daughter from a herd of psychopaths," Snow shrugged, "yeah typical."

Pallan smiled. "Not only that but you were able to win her heart as well."

Snow said something inaudible and Pallan ignored it. He waved both Rupert and the man out before turning to Snow.

"I need your help with some…people."

"You mean your friends out there?" Snow asked meaning the F-22 virus patients.

Pallan gave a mischivious smile. "Other friends."

He motioned Snow to follow him and he opened the door on the left wall. The lights were slightly dimmed and Snow gasped at what he saw.

Five people were strapped on a table hanging upside down. IVs were inserted in the crook of their arm and blindfolds were over their eyes. What was strange was that they looked completely at peace they didn't seem bothered that they were hanging upside down. They're faces weren't cherry red as one's might be hanging like that for a certain amount of time and they didn't even stir once.

"What the…."

"A cure," Pallan announced, "a cure to save those poor souls you saw coming here."

Snow's mind was trying to form words to even describe what he was seeing but nothing came to him. His mind was completely blank.

"Hanging a person upside down to an IV is one hell of a cure," Snow snapped.

"It's in the process," Pallan reminded, "a step one to a miracle."

Snow walked up to one of the people and stopped. They looked slightly familiar but Snow couldn't figure out why. He turned to see Pallan look at him intently, watching to see what he does.

"So what do you want me to do?" Snow demanded, "Watch them sleep or is there anything else you want to show me?"

"Follow."

Snow got up and followed Pallan to another room and in this room was more activity. There were people, live people sitting on top of examination tables with two doctors surrounding them. Asking them questions, taking their blood, and other scraping for testing. Snow still didn't understand why he was here.

"Seriously?" Snow asked in disbelief, "You want me to babysit?"

Pallan smiled. "These aren't children Marion, they're adults, adults capable of nearly anything."

Snow looked around to see one _adult_ picking his nose in the corner.

"Yeah their fucking psychos, look I don't have time for this bullshit." Snow turned and was ready to leave when a sudden crash came from behind the door at the end of the room.

"Shit!"

"Hold him down, hold him down!"

"Grab him!"

Snow and Pallan both shared the expression of curiosity and defense to whatever will pop out of that room. More shouts and screams along with something else crashing to the ground. The door flung open, slamming against the wall making spider-cracks. A figure rushed pasted both Snow and Pallan pushing both fully grown men to the ground. It took Snow a few moments to realize that the figure was completely naked. Snow turned back to see the room was fully exposed, a man was lying on the ground with a pool of blood expanding from underneath him. His partner ran up to Pallan to explain what happened, he was covered in blood and was speaking rapidly.

"Snow!" Pallan shouted.

Snow rushed to his feet and scrambled after the naked figure. As he left he could hear Pallan shout for back up. Snow pushed open the door and saw the figure shivering in the corner of Pallan's office. He wondered why he hadn't gone outside but his question was answered by the sound of gun hammers being pulled back. Snow cautiously went up to the escapee to get a better look. At first he thought that the figure was crying but realized that he was just hyperventilating. Goosebumps covered most of his body and occasionally his body would release a spasm of pain making him groan. Snow really didn't know how to approach him, whether to help him up and lead him out or open the door for the guards to handle him.

"Hey," Snow said in a clear voice. The man didn't answer so Snow spoke louder. "Hey!"

The man's head snapped up and Snow let out an involuntary gasp. He blinked and shook his head to make sure his mind wasn't playing tricks on him. He stared at the man in complete shock. This isn't happening, Snow thought as soon as his mind was able to make words, he isn't here. Snow looked at the ground trying to gather his senses together and then looked up and realized with horrific realization.

"Mace."


	4. Ghosts

The person before Snow definitely looked like Mace however something was of about him. It wasn't exactly him. Snow didn't remember Mace having a green eye. Snow cautiously walked up to the naked figure and then stopped. His mind was trying to grasp what he was seeing, any sense of it whatsoever, a hint. The door burst open and three fully armed soldiers came in, they literally pushed Snow away and surrounded Mace who gave them a hateful glare but didn't offer any resistance as one jammed a needle into his neck. Within seconds Mace was passed out on the ground, a blanket was wrapped around his lanky form and he was carried off.

"Well…" Snow whipped around to see Pallan behind him. "That's one way to introduce what I want you to do."

"That wa…Mace," the ex CIA agent gripped the edge of the desk to steady himself. Pallan walked up to him.

"We call them Ghosts," he explained, "they do indeed have the body and partially the mind of their former owners however they are not entirely them."

"Ghosts?"

"A delicate process that ended up in at least a hundred test Ghosts dead but…when we finally managed to get a good lock on the genetic code we were able to start speed growing them."

"Speed growing?"

"They are as you would say clones of a person, however nothing is perfect. The green eye that you saw on Mace was a common genetic mix, we take a piece of their skin, their blood, hair, anything that will help us try and perfect their former image. However things that we can't totally have control over, or haven't learned to have control over usually goes about itself."

"Cloning," Snow whispered, "cloning for what?"

Pallan gave him a sick smile. "Those people that you saw back there in the operation room are Ghosts as well, they are at first hidden from society, however after we succeed in having their full control we release them into society to perform the…meager tasks needed."

"What about relatives?" Snow growled. "Families, friends, what about them someone is bound to come forward."

"We have taken measures to make sure that they don't."

Snow didn't go on. He found this whole thing sick and twisted. He remembered seeing top agents disappearing for days, weeks on end before turning up again and when they did they weren't the same.

"I'm not taking part in this fucked up thing you've got going on here," Snow hissed.

* * *

Emilie looked at her watch. She was leaned up against the kitchen counter and her arms folded across her breast. It was close to one o'clock. She was supposed to be at the funeral thirty minutes ago. Emilie tapped her foot in frustration and impatience before trying Snow's cell phone again. It was turned off. Snow never turned his phone off. Emilie gave an exasperated sigh and grabbed her purse. She was definitely going to five Snow hell when he got home. As she slipped into her shoes the doorbell rang. If that was Snow she was going to give him such a slap that he was going to be black and blue for a month. The doorbell rang again and the person on the other side spoke.

"Downloader."

Emilie looked at her watch and noticed it was around this time a Downloader would be here.

A Downloader was the lowest of the low. Usually given to people just trying to get by or piss poor students who were in debt. Their job, like a paperboy/girl, was simple to deliver the news.

Emilie walked over and picked up her Slate, she could at least read something to get her mind off Snow. She opened the door and looked up. Emilie felt like the wind had been knocked out of her, her mind completely shut down so she couldn't think of what to do and her insides grew cold. She felt as if the whole temperature in the front hall had dramatically decreased.

"Ms. Warnock?"

The voice rang in her ears and she shuddered.

"Are you alright?"

Closet. Shotgun. Get it. She looked out the corner of her eye to see that the closet was wide open and noticed the outline of the hidden door which held the shotgun and a few casings. Without warning she opened the door and grabbed the loaded gun and pointed it directly at the Downloader. He let out a sharp yelp of surprise and immediately raised his hands in defense. Not letting his actions even slightly faze her from what she was doing she prepared the gun and was more than willing to shoot. Staring down the aim of the gun, she eyed Hydell.

* * *

"It's immoral!" Snow shouted.

"Completely needed," Pallan argued calmly, "the world's population has gone down almost half possibly even more. This needs to happen."

"You're talking about using them as guinea pigs in your fucked up experiments."

Pallan straightened. "We have them completely under control."

"With what?"

"A microchip, what they see we see, what they think we know ten seconds before the message can actually be processed."

"And you think that will hold them?"

"It has," Pallan answered quietly. "For the last nine years."

Snow stopped pacing and stared at Pallan with wide eyes.

"The…nine years?" he sputtered. Pallan nodded and he then motioned to the door. It open and there in the doorway stood a teenage girl, she was wearing a black hoodie, grey top and jeans.

"This," Pallan introduced, "is Darrian, the creator of the Ghosts and the leader of the Necropsy Project."

"Necropsy," Snow echoed.

"Another word for autopsy," Darrian replied, her voice was hollow and seemed to have no emotion too it. Her light grey eyes studied Snow.

"Darrian has been working with us for twelve years now, she has an IQ of 197 and has been very useful in past projects we have conducted here. Necropsy project is her first major one though."

"So you created them," Snow said grimly, it wasn't a question. Darrian nodded.

"Tell him how we do it," Pallan commanded quietly.

"We take a piece of their brain from their original body," Darrian explained, "we also take a piece of DNA in order to grow the body portion. As soon as we have a clearing of the brain's growth we then speed grow the body in a single month. The brain takes slightly longer, from past test speed growing a brain damages their mental capacity and can develop some mental illnesses as they progress through certain tests."

"So how long does it take?"

"The brain takes a month and a quarter to grow, halfway through the growth process we merge both body and brain and combine the two, making sure that there is a secure connection with the body from the brain before allowing both parts to fully mature."

"And when does the microchip come in?"

"At the end," Pallan answered before Darrian had the chance. "When everything is perfect then we insert the chip, we let the Ghost rest for five days allowing full connection to the brain and making sure that the brain responds correctly before allowing it to walk."

"And where do you keep them?" Snow asked.

Pallan smiled. "That is on a need-to-know basis, we don't just tell anyone."

"Right, yet you tell _anyone_ how you grow Ghosts here right smack dab in the middle downtown."

Pallan bristled he was about to respond when his phone rang. He took it out of his pocket and answered it. Snow took this time to check his own phone and saw that there were five missed calls each from home. Then it hit him; hard. Today was supposed to be Emilie's father's funeral. He looked at his watch and saw that it was thirty past one.

"Shit," he muttered.

"Snow," Pallan said closing his phone, "you might want to turn yours on."

Snow did as Pallan suggested and immediately his phone rang. It was from the police station. Snow looked at Pallan who nodded, inviting him to answer it, he looked at Darrian who looked like she didn't really care what he did. He answered.

"Hello?"

"Mr. Snow this it Captain Trabrun," the captain said.

"Captain."

"There has been a disturbance that Emilie had caused it involved a Downloader."

Snow's eyes grew wide and his jaw dropped.

"Well…I think that she should tell you what happened."

There was a rustle and then Emilie's frantic voice came on.

"Snow, he was there, I don't know how he found the house but he was there." She definitely sounded scared.

"Emilie listen, who was there?"

"Hydell."

Snow frowned and then looked up at Pallan who gave him a single look as if to say _isn't it obvious?_ A Ghost, they had turned Hydell into a Ghost.

"Listen Emilie," Snow said, he knew that he had to calm her down, "that wasn't Hydell it was something completely different. It was a Ghost."

There was an uncomfortable pause.

"A ghost?"

"A Ghost as in genetically cloning possibly ever single inmate on MS-One in order to do…plans with them. Hydell must have passed all the tests and was free to go around in society."

"Free to go around in society?" Emilie echoed slowly then blurted. "Are they fucking insane?!"

Snow felt his cheeks go hot as both Darrian and Pallan looked at him waiting for him to finish.

"I'll be down there, I'm leaving now."

Emilie agreed in a heartbeat and Snow cut the connection.

"I have to go."

"Understandable, be here tomorrow same time Rupert will lead you down here."

"I'm not coming back," Snow growled stalking out of the office. He heard Pallan follow him and Snow then heard something disturbing. Coughing, but it was a thick cough and it didn't seem to be stopping anytime soon. He turned to see one of the F-22 victims stumble slightly, she then fell right back on her back and continued to cough violently until something horrifying happened. As she opened her mouth to release another cough, a geyser of blood shot out instead, it was so long that it nearly touched the ceiling then rained back down on her. Her clean white clothes were soaked in blood within seconds. Snow didn't know what to say. He walked up to the cell and stared, no mattered how horrifying that the scene was, he was fixated. Snow picked up the clipboard next to the cell and read it. Fuck, she even had kids.

"They get a second chance," Pallan said coming up from behind. Snow knew that he was talking about the Ghosts. Then he thought about the others tied upside down connected to an IV drip. They were Ghosts too. He placed the clipboard back on the hook and then walked out.

* * *

At the police station Snow was immediately led to where Emilie was being held. As soon as he stepped into the room Emilie launched herself at Snow. At first she slapped him for being late for the funeral but then a rush of emotions made her stop dead and she started to cry. After they finally calmed Emilie down, Captain Trabrun talked to Snow in private.

"She had a weapon," he said.

Snow pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'll take care of it, thank you."

Snow turned back to Emilie who took a sip of coffee. She looked exhausted yet Snow knew that Emilie still had energy.

"They said that you threatened him," Snow said cautiously, he didn't want to set Emilie off.

"He was dressed like a Downloader," Emilie said in a hoarse whisper, "How did he find out where we lived?"

Snow then sat down. "Emilie you have to understand that wasn't actually Hydell, he's really dead remember? That was a clone."

Emilie looked at Snow as if he grew two heads. "A clone?"

"A Ghost technically."

Emilie took Snow's hand in hers and asked," Are you even listening to yourself?"

"That was the job offer," Snow explained, "to watch over Ghosts, I'm not sure how many but from the sounds of it, there are quite a few."

Emilie placed her head in her hands trying to comprehend what Snow was telling her.

"Trabrun said that you threatened him with a weapon," Snow prodded.

"A shotgun," Emilie clarified.

Snow immediately straightened. "A shotgun?!"

"Well you're never really home and when you are…your sleeping so," Emilie tried to find words to explain herself, "I bought a shotgun."

"Jesus Christ," Snow breathed. He ran a hand over his hair and let out a sigh.


	5. Farm

Once Emilie was calmed, and Snow finally had a reasonable explanation for why Emilie thought it was a good idea to buy a shotgun without telling him; he left the room. Outside Pallan was waiting patiently for him beside him was Darrian who looked like she was going to fall asleep any second. Snow immediately walked over to them.

"How's Emilie?" Pallan asked however his tone indicated that he could really care less.

"Fine," Snow answered then quickly changed the subject. "Now tell me more about this project."

"That is confidential."

"Well sure as hell isn't to me now is it? What the fuck are you pulling Pallan?"

Pallan and Snow went into a brief staring contest until Darrian rolled her eyes in annoyance and spoke up.

"At first it was just an experiment to test human cloning to perfection then when we managed that we began with speed growth."

"Humans have a conscious," Snow reminded.

Darrian bowed her head. "We took measures in order to secure the feedback in the brain nervous system that is the original piece of the original brain."

"And how did you do that?"

"By using a microchip implanted in the original piece, it temporarily shuts down that part of the brain unless we turn off the microchip then that part will in a sense "wake up" and the Ghost will remember its formal life."

"All of it?"

Darrian shook her head. "Only bits and pieces, the most a couple of years possibly, however we haven't tested that so who knows, couple maybe more than ten or so."

A question nagged at Snow's brain and before he was able to stop himself he blurted it out.

"Is there something wrong with Mace's microchip?"

"_Was_," Pallan corrected.

"Was?"

"Now corrected."

Snow eyed Pallan knowing that something was up, something didn't feel right but he didn't go on. One of the officers called to Snow and he walked over. Just as Snow headed over Pallan felt his phone vibrate and he took it out. There was a single message: **M346 contained.**

* * *

Monitors were people who took care of the Ghosts, watching them out in public or taking care of them either on the Farm or in the government facilities. They had permission to kill or maim a Ghost should that Ghost put the lives of civilians in danger in any way. They were also instructed to take a Ghost down if the microchip implanted in their brain were to ever, for some crazy reason, shut down involuntarily and deeming the Ghost a Rebel. They knew the schedule inside and out as well as the location of the twenty Ghosts who were allowed to roam free doing the minor jobs of society. So when it hit 6:50, they knew that it was time to go home. One Monitor watched closely as two Ghosts walked around back and he followed none too close. He watched as both slipped into the back of a black sedan before officially calling it a day.

Three large vehicles transported the twenty Ghosts over the bridge and towards the safe zone as quickly as possible. Each Ghost was locked in an automatic trance as soon as the time hit 7pm and need to be lead around like a lobotomized patient. As soon as the vehicles pulled up to the government facility, they drove around back avoiding the public and transferred the Ghosts from there. They used the part of the building that was blocked off to the public and after making sure that the Ghosts were steady, rode all the way down to the large underground Farm.

The Farm had only two hundred and thirty seven cells built each stacked one on top of the other like an ordinary prison. Also beside the cell was a small crack and a piece of rought metal sticking out, the metal was a cover that slide out from the crack for the cell, it would go over top of the bars acting as an instant solitary confindment if the Ghost ever were too behave unnaturally or become Rebel. However with only one hundred and fifteen Ghosts created till the point of the destruction of MS-One. It was more than enough. The twenty Ghosts were led to their assigned cells and all were accounted for; except one. Fifteen minutes later the bell dinged indicating that someone was approaching and the Head of Monitors, Arch, headed over to the elevator. Sedated and held up by two Monitors was M346 aka James John Mace.

"What the fuck…." Arch demanded.

"Blacked out again on us," a Monitor groaned while walking towards M346's cell.

"What did you tell Pallan?"

"That we have him contained already."

Arch shook his head. "Not good lying to that man, he knows when shit like this is up."

"Well, just don't tell him," the other Monitor snapped. With a groan both managed to get M346 into the chair and bound him securely.

"What about the other one?" Arch asked pointing to M112's cell, a rough metal door was covering the bars.

The Monitor shrugged. "Up and down lately, we're getting another chip placed in him in a couple of days."

"That's being aborted, Pallan wants him gone."

The Monitor raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"The part's already to be taken out, we just need to get rid of the body."

Both headed back to the watchman's room and closed the door. Arch leaned over and typed in command codes for M112's cell. There was a loud _whoosh_ followed by an inhuman scream. As soon as the command was done everyone slowly started to relax again, watching as small drifts of smoke escaped through the cracks.


	6. Visitation

_1:09am…._

A loud ring woke Snow up. His heart beat fast as he bolted upright in his bed. Emilie shifted beside him but apparently not disturbed by the annoying sound. Snow grabbed a shirt sticking out of the laundry basket and went to the front door. He peered through the eyehole and cursed loud enough for the person on the other end to hear he also wished that he spent the time grabbing a pair of jeans. Snow reluctantly opened the door and there before him stood Darrian. She was dressed in her usual attire of jeans, a white undershirt and a maroon hoodie. Darrian immediately noticed that Snow wasn't wearing any pants.

"Where are they?" Darrian asked meaning Snow's pants.

"Back in my room," Snow muttered bitterly, "where I sleep during this type in the morning."

"Granted," Darrian said then asked if she could come in. Snow let out a defeated sigh and allowed her too.

"I'll be back," he said heading back to the room for pants. Darrian wondered into the living room looking around. By the time Snow came back he saw three handguns, two switchblades and a single fire bomb out on the coffee table.

"Whoa," Snow said now fully awake as he saw all his secret stash all out on the table.

"It's a violation of Section 267 sub section 2, paragraph d and subparagraph iii," Darrian responded.

"Thanks for the reminder," Snow snapped sarcastically.

"You shouldn't make it so obvious."

"Uh huh," Snow replied still wondering how she knew.

"I'm not here to tip you off about the weaponry-."

"I have permits for those."

Darrian was unconvinced but she let it go. "I'm here to talk about M346."

"Who?"

"Your friend, I believe that his name is John James Mace, correct?"

Snow nodded.

"You saw him yesterday."

"You gave me a Sunday school summary of whatever the fuck you guys are doing," Snow finished, "Yeah I remember now what of it?"

"I'm here to clarify the importance of why Pallan choose you."

Snow groaned and got up. Darrian rose too.

"Why can't you guys just leave me alone on that?" Snow asked. "Please I'm begging you just go."

"No," Darrian responded shortly, "there have been some problems with the Ghosts lately and we want you to help us."

"Look girly I'm not a lab coat alright? I'm actually far from it now please-."

"Why do you think Pallan hasn't arrested you yet?"

That made Snow stop, he turned to look at Darrian full on.

"We let you walk right out of that building, no one leaves the building without Pallan knowing and if they do they are arrested for breaking oath and thrown in prison for fifteen years."

Snow took a step towards Darrian. "Really?"

"The Ghosts have been acting up lately, already Pallan ordered thirty to death and that's just in one week. Something is wrong with the microchips."

"And if chips break…"

"They remember bits and pieces of their lives, we tested memory regain on a Ghost before and he only remembered up until his twenty first birthday."

"Is that so bad?"

"He was fifty-seven."

"Oh."

Darrian moved around the table. "Look the last time I checked the microchips they seemed to be responding well to the Links, now it only seems to be damaging them."

"I noticed another thing."

"Yes?"

"You keep saying Pallan, why?"

Darrian's mask dropped briefly revealing a sign o guilt but the just as quickly it slipped back on.

"I actually quit the project three years ago."

Snow's eyes widened. "You what?"

"Human cloning could have been done generations ago, the only reason why they were so testy was because as you said earlier, the human conscious. So when I came along and developed an interest I created a microchip that would be connected to the brain in order to supress that conscious."

"And it worked."

"Obviously, once it did the human cloning was no longer in questioning and they first used inmates from maximum security prisons here on the ground, until MS-One was in building they looked at the inmates over there and started to pick and choose."

"Something happened," Snow guessed, "Something they did that you didn't like."

Darrian nodded and admitted, "My friend was the first one they tested from MS-One."

Snow didn't get it. "Wait…that's why you quit?"

"He was my link to the outside world when I was working. No he wasn't my boyfriend or anything like that, just a friend who was willing to take an hour out of his day to see me. But then…"

"He found out."

"And then he tried to kill me."

There was an awkward silence that filled the room.

"He tried to kill you," Snow repeated slowly in order to make sure he was hearing right. Darrian allowed the thought to sink into Snow and then replied, "He, like you, didn't agree with what I was doing and so decided that the only way to stop it was for me to die."

"Hey I don't agree with you but you don't see me tried to kill ya."

Darrian sighed. "Zak's father was another test subject, he was in a prison in Oregon, he was the fifteen subject coded E-443, he died because the microchip didn't clamp into the brain correctly and when we hooked him up to the Wires to see if we were getting any connection, his brain exploded."

Snow looked at Darrian as if she just grew two heads. "You guys are weird."

"Pallan just needs your help for a few days then you are done."

"If Pallan needs me then why doesn't that prick come see me at this hour of the morning?"

"He doesn't even know I'm here," Darrian said.

"You're joking."

"That's not what I'm here to talk about though."

"No right…you're here to talk about Mace right?"

"He's next."

Snow paused. "He's what?"

"Pallan wants to get rid of him next because his microchip hasn't been responding to the Wires well."

Snow frowned. "He can't do that."

"He can Snow," Darrian reminded.

"How do we stop him?"

"I overheard him telling one of the Monitors that if you don't accept by tomorrow then he's going to kill him."

"If I do then he gets to live right?"

"Yes."

Snow pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Was he ever going to tell me this?" he asked.

"No," Darrian answered straight, "he was going to come to you tomorrow after M-346's expiry and try to blame the death on you."

"Probably hoping for me to kick his ass."

"I'm not sure of his motives but I'm positive that, that was not why he would do that."

"You don't know Pallan like I do girly."

Darrian's face darkened. "I do know Pallan Snow."

Snow perked. That was the first time he had ever heard Darrian say his name. He looked at Darrian who was holding out a piece of paper to him.

"Tomorrow ten in the morning," Darrian instructed and then took her leave. Snow looked down at the paper to see a number scribbled on it. As soon as the front door closed Emilie came from her hiding place.

"She can find your stash of weaponry but she can't detect me," Emilie commented looking at the door.

"I think she knew where you were but didn't really care," Snow replied still studying the number on the sheet. Emilie looked at Snow waiting for him to say something.

"I'm fine," he muttered however that wasn't the response that Emilie wanted.

"You know what I'm going to ask."

Snow sighed. "I'll call tomorrow and see what happens."

Snow stuffed the paper into his pant pocket, then collected the weapons on the table and placed them in their original hiding places before going back to bed with Emilie.

* * *

Outside, the air was cool and frosty. Darrian slipped behind one of the many alley ways and took out her Recorder. She warmed it up before pressing the power switch and the spoke the passlock. A screen came up in mid-air and Darrian tapped M346's profile page. Mace's profile came up on the screen and Darrian scrolled down to the bottom where it would tell her his current state now. His heart rate was good, and he seemed physically okay however his brain was giving off abnormal waves that made Darrian worried. She opened another screen and compared it to another Ghost who was completely normal in Sleep State. Darrian then shut down the Recorder and leaned up against the wall of the building. She knew what she had done was illegal and she could be thrown in prison, but in prison Pallan knew that Darrian wouldn't cooperate. She remembered all the early morning visits she gave to the past candidates for the same job but was turned down right at the door. Snow however allowed her to come in and explain what she had to. In her own terms, Darrian found Snow annoying yet interesting at the same time. She pushed herself from the wall and walked home.


End file.
